Page 35 of The Cult (Cult 1)


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I wanted to ask questions, but he seemed to like me more because I didn’t ask questions. If I gave him what he wanted, perhaps he would share information with me, tell me some minute detail that would get me the hell out of there.

We moved farther back, going deeper into the settlement than I’d ever been before. We crested a hill, then I saw the gathering below.

I halted against my will, seeing a sea of Malevolent gathered there, all sitting on the stone slabs that circled the dais in the center, where a large bonfire burned.

Forneus turned to me.

What in the fucking hell?

As one, the Malevolent turned to stare, their cattle horns turning with the movement.

All my bravery went out the window.

I was scared. Fucking scared.

Forneus moved down the stone steps, guiding me forward, oblivious to the panic that had taken up residence in every part of me. My lungs couldn’t expand fully anymore, stunted in their movements. My heart pounded against my rib cage like a speaker with the volume too loud. It was a freezing night, but I felt our joined palms become slick with my sweat.

We reached the bottom and moved through the sea of Malevolent to the dais.

I stared straight ahead, seeing the large cross erected there, the leather ties in the places where wrists and feet would go.

Ohhhh fuck.

He left me on one side of the fire and moved to the other.

Was I about to be crucified right now?

Did he know I was conspiring to escape?

I subtly searched for a rock or a branch, something to use to knock him into the fire so he could burn to ash.

There was nothing.

Just the sea of dark eyes in dead skulls.

Forneus moved across the fire and stared at me through the flames.

The flames felt like an inferno, made my skin slick with sweat, made my body overheat with this ridiculously bulky gown on top of me.

I’d never been so scared in my life.

He held out his palm and withdrew a dagger. “Angel and demon, we are one.” He held the blade to his palm and sliced himself.

Batshit crazy, man.

He held out his palm, the blood dripping into the fire, making it spit when it hit the grates. He held out the dagger next—as if he expected me to do the same.

I should take it and stab it right into his heart.

But a single dagger wouldn’t protect me from the hundred Malevolent sitting there.

Yes, a hundred.

How did he get a hundred men to go along with this insanity?

I took a breath and grabbed the dagger, feeling the heat underneath, and pulled it close.

My fingers loosened and revealed my palm, the untarnished flesh about to be scarred.

He watched across the fire, his dark eyes demonic, his energy terrifying.

I had no choice, so I did it.

I didn’t wince in pain. I didn’t react at all. Out of pure stubbornness.

I extended my palm over the fire and let the drops hit the flames.

The cruel smile returned as he moved his palm over the blaze to grab mine.

I tucked the dagger under the sleeve of my dress and wiped it against the material so the blood would stain underneath and not give away its presence. Hopefully, Forneus was so absorbed in this moment that the weapon was forgotten.

My palm fit into his.

He squeezed our hands together, our blood dripping together into the fire, the flames dimming before coming back stronger than before. The heat burned my hand, but he kept it there, his eyes drilling into my face, our blood mixing together, his soul devouring mine.

My hand was bandaged, and we left the gathering of Malevolent and returned over the hill. I hoped that would be the end of it, that I could go back to my cabin and suffer the nightmares that were bound to come tonight, but of course, it wasn’t.

He stayed at my side, walking with me to my cabin like a boy walking a girl home after a first date.

The dagger was still in my sleeve.

Hopefully he’d forgotten.

We approached my door, the nighttime air eerily silent. Winter was coming, so the crickets that would provide the backdrop to a summer night were absent. It was just cold, really cold, the fog descending from the clouds.

I wanted to ask what that ceremony meant, but it didn’t matter. He would give some bullshit explanation that was based nowhere in reality. He was a freak, and I shouldn’t hold my breath expecting anything less than a freak’s answer.

I stopped outside the door, expecting to hear a goodnight, which was ridiculous.

He continued inside.

I stayed outside, preferring the cold on my lungs, not just because it tempered my inflamed hand, but because it was better than being alone with that monster…no pun intended.

“An-gel. Join me.”

The dagger was tucked under my dress. There were no Malevolent around.

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